


Crossfire

by FaeQueenInu



Category: Black Widow (Comics), Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/F, F/M, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 05:07:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20687984
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FaeQueenInu/pseuds/FaeQueenInu
Summary: Love is for children, or so she believes. It's a game, one that requires more loss than she is willing to allow. If she does not play her hand carefully, someone is going to get caught in the crossfire...





	Crossfire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DragonOfKirkwall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonOfKirkwall/gifts).

> Sooooooo this fic is the culmination of me trying to drag my friend into shipping Darcy/Bucky and blatantly using her favorite ship, Natasha/Bucky, to do so. This one is a bit more structured and its actually a set number of chapters, so yay for actually having a plan for once! Anyway, enjoy!

_cross my heart and hope to die_

_stick a needle in my eye_

_wait a moment, i spoke a lie_

_i never really wanted to die._

* * *

Everything was white.

And endless expanse of nothingness surrounding her. Silence filled the air, almost deafening as the sound of her blood pumping through her veins filled her ears. Her breath was soft, like a whisper. She was calm. Always calm.

The hair on the back of her neck rose.

She struck out without hesitation, her leg in air as she spun around, only to be caught. Her breath seemed to leave her, her eyes widening in shock as she stared at the metal hand wrapped around her ankle. 

“You are slowing, Natalia…” His words are blunt and cold as he shoves her leg back. She catches herself gracefully, parrying back out of his reach as she composed her features. Moving towards her, his hands slipped to the front of his tactical jacket, pulling out a pair of knives. “I trained you better than that.”

She slipped her hands behind her, pulling out two knives from under her jacket. “That’s funny, I didn’t think you’d remember that, _James_.” She began to circle him slowly, her eyes tracking his every movement.

A knife flew through the air, narrowly missing her head.

“I could never forget you, Natalia.”

And with that, their dance truly began.

He lunged forward, the same feral grace she remembered from all those years ago. She dodged and parried, dropping to the ground to twist out of his reach. Their dance began at a distance, each keeping out of reach of the other, but the longer they moved, the more intertwined they grew. Their circling closed in, their limbs a tangle of ebbing and flowing, till each movement left them within a breath of the other.

As their blades locked together, he leaned into her, the familiar icy blue eyes blazing with a fire long since forgotten. “You know the rules.” He pressed forward, testing her strength. “No hesitation. No mercy. Love is for children, Natalia-”

“_I am no _**_child._**” 

Her leg swung out catching him off guard and throwing him off of her. As he stumbled slightly to catch his footing, she readied herself. The moment he spun around, she did not hesitate. 

The widow struck.

Even as she did though, she found herself refusing to meet his eyes. The knife sunk deep into her target’s gut, and she stared at the wound, watching as the red bled out of the deep wound into the white fabric…

White…

...He did not wear white.

Eyes drifting up, she vaguely registered the distinctly feminine form dressed in a loose white shift dress, until her eyes settled on the face. He was gone. And in his place, she stared in horror at the young woman before her. Long ebony hair hung in waves around a soft face, and deep blue eyes stared at her confusion and betrayal. The young woman coughed, blood dotting her lips as tears slipped out.

She stepped back, accidentally pulling out the knife. The young woman grasped loosely at the wound as she struggled to stand. Reaching towards her with a blood stained hand, she whispered, “Natasha…why?” 

Then, she collapsed in a heap on the ground.

“No… no, no, _no, _**_no_**!” She dashed forward, tossing the knife aside as she dropped next to the dying woman. “Come on, stay with me…” Pulling the woman into her lap, she pressed her hands firmly to the wound. “Hold on, _please_.”

The young woman smiled ruefully. “Don’t worry about me, Nat. You are just getting your hands dirty…”

She shook her head furiously. “I don’t care, you can’t die!”

“Everything dies, Natalia.” His voice came from behind her, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away from the young woman, watching as the deep blue of her eyes began to fade. “You more than anyone should know that…” He knelt down beside her. “Pity that those you love tend to suffer first.”

She swung out at him, her arm striking thin air. He was gone, having vanished into the white abyss surrounding her. Before she could dwell on it, her lap felt lighter, and she whipped her head back around to find the young woman gone. “No!” 

Jumping to her feet, she spun around. The young woman was gone, leaving her with nothing except the blood staining her hands. “No, _please_, no…” Her composure finally broke, tears staining her face as she grabbed at her hair, pulling as she shut her eyes tight.

“_Darcy!_”

* * *

Jolting up, her breath came in heavy pants, a slight tremble in her shoulders. She ran a hand over her face, willing herself to calm. Losing composure used to never be an option, yet she found herself slipping more as time went on. 

“_Ms. Romanoff?_”

Taking one last deep breath, she slipped her feet off the edge of the bed, leaning forward with her hands braced on her knees. “Yes, Jarvis?”

“_Are you alight, ma’am_?” Despite being an A.I., she could hear the hint of concern tinged within his tone. “My scans show that you are experiencing a higher than normal heart rate and erratic breathing patterns.”

Sighing, she quipped, “I’m fine. I just didn’t sleep well.”

“_If you say so, ma’am._”

Rising to stand, she added, “Don’t inform Stark of any of this.”

“_As per your privacy protocols, he is not informed of anything that occurs within your quarters unless your life is at risk._”

“Thank you, Jarvis.” When she had first moved into the tower, she had been hesitant. Her paranoia made it impossible for her to live within SHIELD quarters: the idea of a computer having access to her living space left her even more on edge. But Jarvis had been very accommodating, and slowly she found herself accepting his presence.

She still did not _trust_ something made by Stark, but she trusted very few people in the first place, let alone a computer.

Stretching her arms behind her head, she tilted her neck side to side, making a pleased hum at the sound of it cracking. “What time is it?”

“_It is currently 6:33am._”

“…дерьмо.”

* * *

About fifteen minutes later, she found herself stepping out of the elevator, making a steady stride down the hall while munching on a protein bar. It had taken her very little time to get dressed in her workout clothes, but still. She was _late_. She was _never_ late. Usually, it was her student who was late. Or Clint.

To think that she had sunk to his level…

Shaking her head with a rueful smile, she pushed open the door, eyeing the gym. Her smile turned pleased, staring out at the familiar young woman jogging at a decent speed on the treadmill. She had half expected her to head back to sleep when she did not arrive at six. 

Heading over, she watched the young woman who was blissfully unaware of her presence, long black hair swinging loosely in her ponytail. After a couple minutes of not being noticed, Natasha broke the silence. “Darcy-”

Darcy let out a loud shriek, cutting off anything else Natasha might have said. Seeming to slip into ‘fight’ rather than ‘flight’ mindset, she twisted around, her leg swinging out towards Natasha. Unfortunately, the motion did not account for the fact that the treadmill was still moving…

Nat dodged easily, stepping back away from kick, watching as Darcy was thrown off the treadmill to fall in a rather painful looking way. She was almost sympathetic for the young woman. But she still said, “You should know better.”

Groaning from where she remained collapsed in a heap on the ground, Darcy let out a heavy sigh. “Yeah, yeah. Always make sure you’re in a stable stance before striking.”

Crossing her arms as she stepped forward to loom over the girl. “And?”

“Uh…” Scratching her head, she weakly asked, “My high kick is badass?…”

Natasha shook her head, though she smirked at her response. “Always be aware of your surroundings. I was standing behind you for a while: I could have easily killed you if I felt like it.”

Darcy did not seem phased by the threat. She merely pouted. “Not everyone is a super spy-ssasin. Like I would have a chance against you even if I did notice you approaching!”

“That’s what the training is for.” Holding out her hand, she helped Darcy to her feet. “I’m not expecting you to hold out against someone like me. I _am_ expecting you to not be vulnerable to any grunts if you ever encounter them.” Absently reaching up to brush a few strands of hair from Darcy’s face, she softly murmured, “I do not want to see any harm come to you, котенок…”

Darcy’s face flushed a bright shade of red, her face tilting down as she struggled for words. “I… I really appreciate all of this. This means a lot to me, Nat…” Shifting from foot to foot, she fidgeted with her glasses. In a small voice, she shyly added, “_You_ mean a lot to me…”

Natasha smiled. It was small and soft, but it was a genuine smile. “And _you_ mean so much to me.” The grin she received was blinding, and she felt her heart skip a beat at the look of pure happiness. But even with that… “We still are having combat training today.”

“…damn.”

* * *

The rhythmic feeling of her fists striking out at the target calmed her, helped to direct the cluster that was her mind. She found herself lost in thought, her mind wandering. A year ago, she wouldn’t have believed that she was capable of being distracted like this. 

Yet here she was, _pining_ over a curvy little brunette with sharp wit and a wicked smirk.

Natasha met Darcy around a year ago.

Feet aching and body sore, she trudged into the communal room with Clint and Steve dragging along behind her. It was rare for her to openly display such weakness, but she could not care less at the moment. The mission had been long and grueling, brought on by bad intel and even worse luck. They were lucky to only be sporting a few bruises and scrapes.

Now, all she wanted was food and sleep. She knew her apartment’s kitchen was not stocked, hence her trip to the communal kitchen. The two men just seemed to be following her, both just as tired as she was. The bumps and cuts on Steve had long since healed, but the angry growl of his stomach had plagued them the entire flight home. Not even a protein bar could be found on the quinjet, and she could only imagine the havoc that his enhanced metabolism was wracking on his stomach.

As they neared the kitchen, she could not help but pause. Lingering through the air, the scent of fresh baked food wafted around her, and she found herself straightening defensively. Speeding up her pace, she rounded the corner to see who was in the kitchen only to freeze.

The young woman was certainly attractive. Not in the model-esque kind of way, but in the softer, classic sort of way. Soft curves and a heart shaped face framed with dark and unruly curls of hair, Natasha had a perfect view of the girl’s profile. Her body, though dwarfed in the large Culver University sweatshirt, showed clear signs of a near pinup figure, her legs bare as the sweatshirt barely reached mid calf. 

The girl was blissfully unaware of her surroundings, and Natasha belatedly scolded the girl in her head for not paying attention. She had music playing quietly in the background, her body swaying to the song as she moved around the kitchen, cutting and mixing various foods. Her plush lips silently sung the lyrics as she pushed a pair of glasses up onto her nose, and Natasha felt her head tilt as she examined the girl’s face with unhindered curiosity.

Clint apparently had not been expecting Natasha to have stopped so suddenly, and he collided with her back, though she did not move. He gave her a strange and confused look, only to glance at where she was staring. A wide grin slowly grew across his face. “Darcy!”

The girl, apparently named Darcy, jolted at the sudden voice, letting out a yelp of surprise and accidentally throwing the knife she was holding across the counter. Face flush with embarrassment and anger, she shouted, “Clint, what the hell!” Storming around the counter, she stomped up to him and smacked him in the shoulder. “You scared the shit out of me! I nearly stabbed myself!”

Clint did not bother to hide his laughter, his eyes sparking with amusement. “Awww, I’m sorry, Darce. Next time I will wait till you aren’t holding sharp objects to scare you.” That earned him another smack to the shoulder, but he obviously regretted nothing. Holding his arms out, he asked, “Hug?”

She gave him an exasperated look. “You are such a pain in the ass.” But she couldn’t help the small smile as she stepped forward to hug him.

“You love me, kid.”

“I am not a kid!”

“Sure you’re not.” Stepping back from the hug, he kept an arm wrapped around her shoulder as he steered her to face the others. “Darcy, I’d like to introduce you to-“

He was cut off by the girl sharply whispering, “Is that the Black Widow?!”

She could not help the smirk on her face. “I prefer to go by Natasha when not in the field.”

The red blush quickly came back with a vengeance on Darcy’s face. “Oh my god, you’re gorgeous-“ Her hands quickly slapped over her mouth. “Uh. I mean, I didn’t mean to say that! Not that you’re not gorgeous, you are _more_ than gorgeous- I just…I…” Her eyes widened and her voice dropped to a near silent whisper. “I’m not wearing pants, am I?…”

The choked sound behind them broke Darcy’s rambling. All eyes turned to Steve, who stood with his jaw hanging open, eyes wide and cheeks red. “Uh… hello, ma’am?”

Darcy looked like she wanted to crawl in a hole and disappear. “Please tell me I’m not meeting both Captain America and Black Widow with no pants on?…”

Clint chuckled under his breath. “You were the one who came to the communal kitchen dressed like this.”

“I have no food in my apartment yet and forgive me for thinking that no one was going to show up in the kitchen at 3am!”

“What _are_ you doing in the kitchen at 3am?” Natasha asked curiously.

Darcy shrugged absently, turning her attention to play with the edges of her hair. “Couldn’t sleep, so I started cooking.” Staring at the piles of lasagnas and casseroles and other foods, she added, “I’ve seen how much Thor eats, and I heard Cap is similar, so I figured we needed a lot of food…Thought I would make some food for all of you to keep in your freezers-“

A loud growl echoed through the room, and all eyes turned once more to Captain America, who was even redder as his stomach continued to make itself known. Letting out a snort of laughter, Darcy remarked, “Or we could eat it now.” Turning back to the kitchen, she asked, “Come on, you three: post mission food binging. We can cue up a movie if you guys are up for it.”

The night had continued on with all of them eating various amounts of food, sprawled on Tony’s couches, all watching low budget horror flicks that Darcy _insisted _were the pinnacle of movie culture. While she did not fully agree with that sentiment, Natasha could see the appeal of the cheesy murder flicks with ridiculously bright red blood and over the top death scenes. 

Still, they all curled up together, Steve sitting on the loveseat while chowing down on an entire tray of lasagna by himself, Clint sprawled on the floor in front of the couch chewing on muffins that Darcy had smacked him about eating because they were meant to be for breakfast, and Natasha found herself curled up on the couch with Darcy, the girl sprawled across her lap as Natasha absently ran her fingers through her hair.

Eventually, they all managed to fall asleep, dishes scattered around them, the tv still humming in the background. If asked, she would blame it on mission fatigue for how she could fall asleep in such a vulnerable position, but in truth, she was just… _tired_. Tired of keeping her guard up at all times. And though she had only known her briefly, the girl in her lap gave off such a comforting vibe, making her feel as if she could let her guard down for once. As if she could live a normal life, if only during the moments with her.

And if she happened to _accidentally _come across the young girl repeatedly over the next few days, then she was fine with that. She was fine with how she rearranged her routine to meet with Darcy for lunch, or how she rearranged her workout routine to give the girl self defense lessons. She was fine with all of it, because the moments she had with Darcy were worth it.

Worth seeing her eyes light up when Natasha showed up with her favorite coffee. Worth the laughter when Natasha called Tony out on his shit. Worth the look of triumph on her face when she mastered a new fighting technique.

And certainly worth Darcy treating her as if she were not just a spy, a weapon, but as a _friend_.

She would do anything to keep Darcy happy and safe. So that’s why when Jarvis interrupted her workout with the alert, she felt a cold wash of dread run down her spine.

“_Be advised, James Buchannon Barnes has been spotted within the vicinity of the Tower.”_

Darting over to her bag, she whipped out her phone, she moved to call Darcy, only to see a text message from the girl. “_Hey Nat, I’m heading out to grab some baking supplies. Be back soon! <3”_

“Jarvis, track Darcy. _Now_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Translation: (this is by google translate so forgive any inaccuracies!)
> 
> дерьмо - shit
> 
> котенок - kitten


End file.
